


Still

by AmosLee1023



Category: South Park
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-08 01:18:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7737484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmosLee1023/pseuds/AmosLee1023
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Craig has just lost Ruby to lung cancer. Kyle has just lost Ike to sex and drugs. And to top it off, Kyle and Stan broke up and Tweek is in the hospital. Craig is alone and Kyle just as equally. </p><p>A prom night of lost promises and fake new beginnings. Oneshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still

 

 

**Still Song track: Daughter-Still**

**(music video is heavily recommended (Some of the lyrics are scattered in the print))**

**"Two hands longing for eachother's warmth..."**

 

 

He fluffed his hair about, small red curls bouncing and sticking to one another at the humidity in the room. Looking into the mirror, green eyes stared right back; bouncing off of the reflector and sending scattered and hazy thoughts to the glossy orbs that looked on. The eyes glanced away from the glass, slipping to the wooden dresser that stood 'fore the slim bodied form. Thin fingers reached for the green tie that stretched across his neck, pulling the knot slowly tighter, neck shifting to adjust to the sudden squeezing of his air pipes. _"It's so easy." "Just keep pulling."_ The barely there thoughts came abruptly, slipping through the door's cracks and right into his breaking sanity.

The green orbs looked to the mirror again, brain just registering the action that had happened a bit ago. Tired eyes. Bruised lips. Pink eye whites. Lids shiny and grey. Brows brought together and cheeks blotchy. This was sadness, wasn't it? The thin fingers ran across the green fabric softly before slipping away, hand slowly falling to his side.

The tear trailed slowly, hot against the pale cheek, slipping by his nose and crawling to the corner of his purple-red lips. It never registered just what had happened. The part deep down that knew didn't want to accept it. This was normal. There is no sadness here. Heavy lids blinked slowly and stared on at the reflection before them. The haze briefly cleared when another thought slipped through the crack. _That's me.._

Lips parted and fingers reached up to brush over the soft and sore, torn skin. They burned. The fingers traveled to his jaw line, sliding up and brushing the slick and sticky drying trail of the stray tear, following the trail and brushing away the ball of salty water. He inhaled a hitched air of two breaths, turning away from the mirror abruptly and dropping his hand to his side again, room air chilling his finger from the wetness that lingered on it. He walked to the door, shoes clacking against the wood floor in asymmetrical and dragged out beats.

His scruffy shoes left barely any noise on the tile floor of the large room, music from the DJ and everyone's obnoxious speech and laughter drowning out any small sound like boot heels tapping on a floor that was far better even in its state of sore aging and cheap polish.

He exhaled deeply, taking in small breaths to avoid smelling any of the cheap exaggerated perfume and cologne that reeked the air, the windows trying to open their locks to escape the horrific exhaust.

He ran a hand through his hair, tired eyes closed and mind drifting at the comfort of the dim lighting that chased the darkness from swallowing anyone whole. His lids opened and he moved his hand from his hair to wipe at his mouth before he let the limb fall to his side.

Blue eyes looked about the large room that just seemed to grow smaller with each step he took. He looked at the guests, worn eyes looking bitterly on at their happiness. Bebe laughed with Clyde, teeth white and glowering in the dark. Token and Nicole chatted at the buffet. Tweek-

His gut turned, heart slowing and sending harsh thumps into his chest to make him intake some air. His air was hitched in his throat and his adam's apple bobbed at a rough swallow. There was no Tweek here. Months of planning to go to this event together had gone to waste and turned into months of mourning and planning of a probable funeral.

His eyes shut and he took in some breaths, heart beating heavily and unevenly- trying to remember how to beat right. His fingers twitched and he opened his eyes to look at them. You are alone. He made a fist. _There is no hand to hold. You are cold. "I am cold."_ He looked up again, icy blue orbs looking to the couples once more. He breathed slowly, music muffling in his ears when his thoughts finally broke. Everyone is happy. His ears twitched when the doors behind him opened before slamming closed when the new guest failed to catch the heavy metal.

His bones ached. Fingertips burned. He moved his thumb over his third knuckles, pressing against the chapped skin and popping the sore bones beneath. His thoughts calmed their scattered wandering when his eyes fell to Stan and Wendy, the two's hands entwined, blue eyes locked in brown in a healthy gaze. He didn't care. He wouldn't care. But he still looked to his right, gaze locking on the redhead from his past to whom stood completely still, mind and body stuck staring at the black haired couple who smiled to each other, eyes soft and smiles genuine.

A genuine love.

The red haired teen kept a hand on his tie, clutching it tight with white knuckles, adam's apple moving harshly at a pained swallow. He blinked back his emotion, lashes fluttering a few times at the gesture. His eyes tore away, tired and glossy green eyes meeting worn and withdrawn blue. The eyes held each other for the longest of a moment before being broken, Craig's eyes falling to the shined floor while Kyle's glanced back to the couple to who's happiness radiated.

The red head sucked in a breath, taking his plump bottom lip and nibbling on it, sharp and raw burning bitter pain running through the torn skin. He turned away, eyes looking to the closed doors. He couldn't think. He couldn't come up with a single thought. His mind was so scattered, eyes so hazy and fogged- he just wanted to feel alive again. This, this wasn't his life. Because he couldn't control it anymore.

He quickly made way for the doors, thin hands bracing the bar handles and forcing the doors open, slipping out the first sign he saw able. The booming music muffled dramatically when the doors shut behind him and he fell, bony knees thudding against the cement ground roughly, rocks and gravel embedding into the thin skin under too big of dress pants.

He bowed his head, lifting his thin hands to let his face fall into them. This wasn't right. Everyone was so calm. Every _thing_ was so calm. And here he was, a mess spiraling downwards. Had he ever been so broken? No. No. He was fine. It's okay. The first wail, he thought was a car's siren. The first tears, he thought were rain. And then he noticed it was all him. Ike was gone because he didn't help him. Talk him out of it. Teach him the right ways. He was scared to speak his name. If he acknowledged that he was gone, would he ever come back?

He lifted himself on shaky legs, knees wobbling and bones shaking while he cried, a hand on the doors for support to get his correct balance. His stomach hurt. He pushed off the door, stumbling away from the gymnasium with sobs preventing him from standing straight, the green eyed boy looking like a dying boy, or a zombie. He was pretty lifeless right now anyway. Now would be a time where Stan would run after him, engulf him in strong arms and a warm chest. The unbroken thought that managed to come through right made him grin through his crying, cheekbones high and teeth hurting.

The sound of shoes behind him made his smile falter, the corners of his mouth tugging downward at the thought of Stan coming for him. He wanted Stan. He wanted him to hug him from behind, to spin him around and hug his face into his chest; to kiss his tears and give apologies for the mistakes that weren't his. But he also _didn't_ want him. He was ashamed. Broken. He didn't want him to see him in this new low.

"Kyle."

Kyle slowed his odd pace of slower than jogging but faster than walking. This wasn't Stan's voice.

Craig slowed to a stop, Kyle trailing a bit more before eventually stopping. The air was cold. They both stood panting, Kyle's back to Craig and Craig's eyes on Kyle's back. With each pant, cold smoke seeped out of colder throats. Kyle breathed heavily and slowly turned to face Craig, arm raised and hand wiping his face, shiny of warm wetness. Half lidded and teary green eyes met Craig's blue and the noirette watched Kyle, the red head's arm dropping to his side and the teen standing straight to cough out a slightly bitter laugh that sounded all too bitter sweet to Craig Tucker.

"Don't look at me like that." Kyle's voice was tired and Craig watched him, straight faced and eyes showing no emotion. Because all of his emotion was behind them. "Like what." It was more of a statement than a question. At least that's what it sounded like. Slightly nasally voice monotone and bare.

Kyle shook his head, lifting his hand again to run it through his hair, thin fingers getting tangled in the curls and forcing them to come apart, face contorting slightly from the burning to his scalp and the strong emotions that tried to bubble out; a tear escaping from the overflowing water in his waterline, showing just how close his wall was to breaking.

"Like I'm stupid." Kyle spat, scratching his head rough in irritation. Craig watched him carefully and shook his head, running his thumb to his knuckles to pop them again, the cracks loud as the cold air carried them along. Kyle looked at Craig through lidded eyes and a bitter expression.

Craig blinked heavy lids and looked to the red head tiredly. "You aren't stupid." He stated, meeting eyes with Kyle, noting the shadows around them that sunk into his skin. "The good always hurt the most." The words were followed by silence, only the chilly air letting them remember that time was still going. That this was still another night without Ike. Another night without Ruby. Another night without Stan. And another night without Tweek. And that there would be more nights just like this one.

"Why are you here tonight?" Kyle wiped his eyes, hand moist and cool. Craig shrugged and looked back to the gym that looked pretty far in the distance now that he thought about it. "It's our senior prom. Why not?" He looked back to Kyle, the red head watching him with the same sad face he's had all night.

"Even if it meant you coming alone?" Kyle wrapped his arms around his waist, hugging himself; body sore and aching. Craig's eyes looked to Kyle's, "Even if I came alone." Without fail he said those words, and if it were like in a movie, he'd probably look like some sort of human hero. But he was hurting inside.

Kyle was no Tweek. And Craig was no Stan. But when Craig looked at Kyle's lips, he remembered the night when he bruised them. When they slept like they were lovers. Kyle also seemed to recall this memory and his eyes glazed over, arms tightening and teeth gnawing at his lip, making it bleed like he had this morning. It seemed to be a recent habit he had under come.

The memory was bitter.

It was good when it had happened. They both saw each other for what they were, for who they were. Two teens from broken families. But they weren't each other's. They belonged to others.

Just by looking, Kyle could tell that still their hands matched. Still their eyes met, green and blue looking into the other and seeing the same memories. Kyle's chin quivered and his demeanor fell, head falling and eyes closing. Despite that, tears still broke through and splashed against the cement in tiny drops. Craig stepped forward, walking to the shorter teen and lifting his arms to wrap them around the small form. Wrapping them tight around the red head, he could feel all of the teen's bones shifting when the teen moved his arms to hug Craig in a tight embrace, face in the noirette's chest and sobbing muffled by the thrift shop cheap suit jacket.

Just how much weight had Kyle lost? Craig placed his chin on Kyle's head, red curls itching his nose and chin but him not caring.

Kyle was no Tweek. And Craig was no Stan. But they were each other.

Craig shut his eyes tight, trying to imagine Tweek's face, _wanting_ to imagine the blonde boy's perfect huge grin with coffee stained and a couple of crooked teeth. To imagine his green eyes that he knew had brown specs, but all he saw were Kyle's pure green orbs staring back at him. Kyle clutched the back of Craig's suit jacket and Craig sighed to himself, opening his eyes to look to the pavement below.

"Kyle."

The shorter teen gave some hitched breaths and Craig could tell he was trying to get his rightful breathing pace back. When Kyle was silent Craig pulled away to look at him, Kyle's eyes on the noirette's chest. "...I look in the mirror and... Hate what I've become..." The red head whispered, Craig looking past him at the lightning bugs that drifted by. "..Even the best fall sometimes." Craig murmured, the two meeting gazes before Kyle averted his own. Craig sighed through his nose. "Let's dance around this road like we've only got tonight." He stated, Kyle looking up at the noirette to whom's gaze was off towards the streetlights.

Kyle closed his eyes and nodded, Craig looking back to him and the two letting go of each other to take each other's hands instead.

The two met gazes and they started to dance, slow at first, fumbling over each other while looking at each other's eyes, before finally getting a better hang of it.

Tired blue eyes looked into broken and shiny green ones.

Two hands that longed for each other's warmth entwined. Both biting back unnecessary words like a wolf howling. The darkness was falling even more around them, leaving nowhere for them to go but to be near each other in a melancholy embrace.

Still with feet touching. Still with eyes meeting. Still, our hands match. Still with hearts beating. Kyle was no Tweek. And Craig was no Stan. But they were each other.


End file.
